The deception match
by Charlotte Lazarus
Summary: Sirius pretends to be an artist while he's spying on Death Eaters. Remus is a journalist looking for a story. When they meet, attraction is immediate, but each must keep the other in the dark about their real identity. Sirius/Remus AU.


Sirius sat down at the bench park, with his canvas laid on an easel and several charcoal pencils sprawled next to him. A sign hanging from the easel read "Wonderful and realistic hand drawn portraits! Only £1 each," a price that he considered too low for an original Black portrait, but that was deemed reasonable for an unknown street artist.

He was on a mission assigned to him by Albus Dumbledore himself, who became familiar with Sirius' undeniable artistic talent during his seventh grade at Hogwarts, after seizing one extremely realistic of the headmaster wearing nothing else than a pair of socks and the Sorting Hat (the hat wasn't covering his head).

As a member of the Order of the Phoenix, Sirius was to sit on that bench by the park nine hours a day to trace every single movement outside of the recently discovered Death Eater's headquarters, which was conveniently set in front of a beautiful park. He had a special notebook to write down who came in and out of the house, and the messages immediately appeared on a twin notebook at the Order's headquarters.

It wasn't the most exciting mission he had been given and he felt a little disappointed. Patience wasn't his strong suit and waiting on a bench for things to happen seemed awfully boring. Little did he know…

It was within the first half hour of that day when he first spotted _him,_ one bench to his left, quietly taking out a bunch of old looking books from a bag and setting them up over a large cloth. When Sirius looked back to that moment, many years later, he always thought it had been fate that put him on that assignment and on that park, were _he_ would also be on a personal mission. Sirius also thought he had been an imbecile to approach that first sighting in such a disregarding manner.

When Sirius first saw him, the first thing that struck him is that he looked very sick, with pale skin and bags under his eyes. The man must've around his age, was wearing some worn out jeans and a brown cardigan too big for him. Sirius immediately disregarded him as a plain, below average man, that was sitting too close and could become an uncomfortable witness to his mission.

"Oi, do you mind?" Sirius exclaimed, motioning with his hands to the area around him. "This place is already taken."

But then _he_ had looked up and Sirius immediately realized he was in trouble, because those big amber eyes, the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, stared right into his soul. He gaped a little when the man -who Sirius dubbed "pretty eyes" almost immediately- raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"I'm sure this park's big enough for the two of us, mate," he said in a kind voice that left Sirius without further reply, something out of character for the sharp Black heir.

When Sirius finally came up with a flirtatious reply about what else was big enough in that park for the two of them, the other young man had already gone back to setting up his little book sale and was paying him no mind. He suddenly felt very aware of the physical disadvantage he was in.

The mission required him to drink a polyjuice potion that made him loose the handsomeness that he had enjoyed all of his life. The potion was made from hair belonging to a street juggler that he met at a bar in Scotland and had agreed give all his hair to Sirius in exchange for a few coins and plenty of alcohol.

For this mission, the originally black haired and grey eyed Sirius Black was sporting long blonde hair, tiny light blue eyes, eyebrows full of yellow hair, a brown viking beard and a very full beer belly. At first he had felt ecstatic at looking like a true hippie that would spend all day in a park drawing charcoal portraits. Now however, looking at his amber-eyed neighbor, he strongly missed his natural good looks.

"I don't remember seeing you here before. Are you new in the area?" asked the man, bringing Sirius out of his contemplative mode.

"What? Oh— no. I mean, yes. I mean, I've traveling around and decided to come back and settle here in London for a while, enjoy the artistic movement in the streets. Maybe make a name for myself" Sirius mentally kicked himself for hesitating with his answer. What the hell was wrong with him? _Way to keep up the appearances_ , he thought.

"Understandable. After all, here's where all the street art is really happening, right?" Sirius didn't really know what to answer to that and fumbled with his words for a couple of milliseconds, before the man hit him again with more questions. "And are you any good at with the charcoal? I noticed you're not exposing any of your work and you're selling at a cheap price. Not so good, perhaps?"

"I'm very damned good!" Siris exclaimed, proudly, sitting up straight and puffing out his chest. "Studied five years under the best artists money could buy in London!"

"Oh, so you're from a rich London family, then?" the other inquired, making Sirius suddenly aware of how much information he was revealing in only a couple of minutes of conversation. Luckily for him, an elderly couple stopped by and asked for a portrait.

Remus saw from the corner of his eye that his neighbor was, indeed, very damned good at his work. He was charming with the couple and swift with his hands. The drawing was professional looking and looked deeply into the couple's personalities. Remus also noticed that the artist wasn't entirely focused on his task and kept glancing around, occasionally writing something in a notebook he kept concealed beside him.

The amber-eyed man was a werewolf who could hear the characteristic change in the heartbeat of someone who was telling a lie. He could also hear the pulse of the other man increase every time he jotted down on the notebook, and could smell the stress constantly pouring out of his body.

However, the first thing he noticed was the distinct magical aura surrounding the man, which was the reason Remus chose to sit next to him. The man beside him was not a Muggle street artist. He was pretending, much like Remus was. But who was he and what was he really doing there?

Remus was there on assignment by the newspaper he worked on, The Express News. He was a reporter who wrote about local crime, and _boy_ wasn't there an abundance of crime in London. The past few years had been terrible, with an increase of brutal murders, suicides and disappearances.

Having hidden from the wizarding world since he was bitten, he didn't know about Voldemort's rise to power nor the war that was currently developing. However, after documenting the crimes for so many months, he was convinced he had found the criminal gang's headquarters in the park. His mission was to discover the faces behind the gang and perhaps make sense of what was behind the violence. It was a dangerous assignment that made his heart race with passion.

However, as he sat next to the fake artist, he felt a pull in chest he had never felt before and was, quite honestly, very distracting. At that moment, he thought it was his gut telling him that the man was somehow involved with the gang and that he had to stay close to discover the truth about him and the attacks. Needless to say, his gut wasn't telling him that at all.

When Sirius was done with the portrait, the old couple stood up from their seats and said all kinds of flattering words about the drawing. After collecting his one pound, Sirius looked back at Remus and smiled.

"Ian Arnold, nice to meet you," said Remus, smiling back and holding out his hand.

"Paul Fitzwilliams, pleasure's all mine," Sirius replied, shaking the other's hand.

With the rush of electricity they felt with the handshake, they both realized that meeting each other couldn't have happened at a worst time.

* * *

 _I haven't written in years and would love to hear some feedback for this story (it motivates me to write faster). Please review and I hope you're intrigued!_

 _Charlie_


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